


Mornings with Ava

by Stonyinspirationwriter



Series: The Ava Stark-Rogers Series [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Bonding, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Stony - Freeform, Superhusbands (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4261272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonyinspirationwriter/pseuds/Stonyinspirationwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A typical morning at the Stark-Rogers household. Steve does some father-daughter bonding with his two year old daughter.</p><p>Another piece included in a series of shorts involving Steve Rogers and Tony Stark with a daughter. Will hopefully lead up to a longer story that involves her transition into becoming the Iron Woman. (Series can be read in any order)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mornings with Ava

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to incorporate things that I have yet to see in other fics.This includes a bit of Steve’s mother, as well as Steve listening to records on the porch with his daughter.
> 
> (Wouldn’t mind taking requests for stories involving Ava. Would be very helpful in shaping her, as well as the eventual fic to come.)
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

There’s this feeling of tranquility that comes with not only waking up and knowing where you are, but in knowing without a single doubt that it’s where you are meant to be. You’re home. You belong to someone.

Sprawled out beside Steve, in pink footie pajamas and a head full of ringlets, is his two year old daughter, Ava. She’s on her back, her face lopped to the side and only inches from his; her warm breath tickling his face. In sleep, so still and tiny, with long lashes and brown curls, his daughter couldn’t more resemble a doll—although her crazy sleeping positions are more comical than angelic. She spends most of the night tossing and turning in her sleep, her body contorted into all kinds of odd poses, and somehow always manages to kick the sheets onto the floor.

One of her arms is splayed across on his broad chest, and he gently moves the stray limb off of him. She doesn’t stir. Her legs are spread wide, one little foot pressed into his side.

Ava has started to form the habit of waking up in the middle of the night and wandering over to their bedroom in search of her “Daddy Night Light”; it’s what she calls Tonys’ arc reactor. The light emanating from the arc reactor is the only thing that seems to effectively soothe her back to sleep. That, and wedging herself between the both of them.

He looks past his daughter’s round head and notices his husband on the other side of her. Tony lies curled up on his side, the blue glow from the arc reactor peeking out from under his arm. Ava’s other arm is across his face—palm up—across his lips and nose. Steve snorts, holding in a laugh. Sleeping with Ava is difficult, but he’s been trained to sleep under worse circumstances, and in stranger places.

Steve lingers in bed for a while, watching his husband and daughter sleep. He watches as their chests rhythmically rise and fall, listening to their steady breathing. Both completely relaxed in the folds of sleep.

There was a time when Steve and Tony were insomniacs—one of the first things that had connected them. Night was when both their minds use to race with fear and regret. Sleep itself offered even less comfort, because the little bit of sleep they had, had been claimed by the most vivid nightmares. The only solace from it all had been their late night talks. They would talk well into the night until all sense of time was lost and the sun had risen in the sky. Amid those talks, they had begun to slowly open up to each other. They both looked forward to those talks.

Once in a relationship and sharing the same bed, they had learned that sleep came peacefully only when they were wrapped in each others arms. The nightmares began to diminish, but when they did come, they would be there to comfort each other. And now, even to this day, they couldn’t sleep without one another.

Ava whimpers in her sleep. Steve gently rubs her head, softly shushing her. Within moments she quiets down and her face once again softens. Steve places a kiss on her forehead and smiles. She’s their miracle child. If not for modern science her existence would have been impossible. He couldn’t care less if she didn’t share his DNA—they could have adopted and Steve would have loved the child just as much. But there was something special in the fact that she was a part of the man he loved. She had Tony’s chestnut brown eyes: warm, loving, irresistibly expressive.

Steve lifts himself with the stealth and speed of a soldier, barely jostling the bed. He takes a moment to cover Ava and Tony with the blankets she had kicked off, and makes his way to the kitchen.

The house is beautiful. A dash of elegance, but also very warm and homely. Compared to the ridiculously extravagant places Tony has lived throughout the years, it was modest. Growing up, Steve didn’t have much. His mother had worked so hard just for the little they had and never once complained. She made sure that Steve had enough to eat, even if it meant she herself had to skip a few meals. Whenever Steve would protest about her giving up her meals to him, she would sternly say: “I am your mother, Steven. I know what’s best for you. Honor me by eating every last bit so you can grow up strong.”

She was loving, but stern when she needed to be. A selfless, but fiercely independent woman. She was a woman ahead of her time. Most importantly, she had believed in him. He was skinny and small, and sickly, but she looked at him as though he were 6 feet tall. She had always said that he would be an important person some day. And when she died, he swore that he would get into the army no matter what it took and make her proud.

Steve glanced at her photograph on the mantel. It had been the only picture of her Tony could recover. The picture had been restored as well as possible. In the picture, she was young, most likely in late teens or early 20’s. She’s wearing a lacy blouse with a turtle neck- like collar. Her lips are pursued into a small smile, and there’s a spark of light in her eyes. The same spark that remained even through the hard times, and had only faded on her death bed.

Steve kissed two of his fingertips and placed them on the photograph. Could she see him now? See the beautiful house he lived in? See Tony? Could she see her beautiful granddaughter? What would she think of the life he lived? Would she be proud?

He placed the picture back on the mantel and made his way into the kitchen to make some coffee. Coffee wasn’t really his go-to beverage, but it was warm, and he drowned the bitter taste in milk. Besides, Tony could barely function without it, and Ava would be waking him up in a while.

When he stepped onto their expansive porch, the sun had just barely begun to rise and shed some light. The air was still chilly. Steve wrapped a small blanket around himself as he sat on the porch swing, holding the hot coffee mug close to his chest. It should be warming up soon. The weather had promised a mostly sunny June day in the 70’s.

It’s quiet. Absent are the usual noises of traffic, of people getting ready to violently hustle through their day; the usual noises that accompany a city. Having both grown up in the city, Steve and Tony had at first found it difficult to fall asleep to the sounds of crickets rather than the sound of alarms blaring.

They are no longer in the city, though, they are surrounded by forest, and the only sounds present here are the sounds of nature. The town they commute to isn’t very far, but far enough to give them a sense of privacy. Steve’s used to it now—It’s home. It’s been his home for almost two years now. It’s the place where Steve and Tony are raising their daughter.

Steve gently rocks the porch swing back and forth. A squirrel scurries up a tree. Birds chirp in conversation. He thinks of the past, the present, the possible future. He thinks of loved ones alive and gone.

He imagines being an old man, sitting on the very same porch swing, getting up early to watch the sunrise. Not too long ago, that future would have seemed unattainable. Maybe even a bit mundane. But now? He couldn’t picture a more perfect future.

“Papa!” A little voice chirps, pulling him out of his reverie. Ava stands in the doorway in her pajamas.

“Where’s your jacket?” Steve asks, regarding her attire disapprovingly. Ava doesn’t respond, instead choosing to grin up at him with an expression that could only be described as mischievous.

“Venir ici ma petite poupée.” Steve says, holding out his arms to her. She runs to him, and he places her on his lap, wrapping the blanket around the both of them. Petite poupée (My Little Doll) is one of his pet names for her.

“Is daddy still sleeping?” Steve asks.

“Daddy sleeping”, Ava confirms.

Like clock work, Ava wakes up every morning at seven—eager to greet the brand new day. And now that it’s summer, her wake up time has become earlier. She was especially energetic in the morning, which is why Steve found it a bit strange that she was able to currently remain so still as she studied her surroundings.

Ava was going to be smart like Tony. She was already showing advanced signs. She started talking and walking much earlier than most children. She also seemed to possess a deep understanding of things, which could be noted just by the gleam in her eyes.

“Look, Papa! Squirrel!” Ava excitedly exclaimed, pointing and slightly rocking.

“I see it, baby.” Steve pressed his lips to her little head, inhaling the still lingering scent of youth.

“Papa?”

“Yes?”

“Listen to Andow Siters?”

“You want to listen to The Andrew Sisters?”

“I want to listen.” Ava says. She frequently repeats words as though she were mentally storing them for later use.

Steve smiles and kisses her cheek. “Alright, baby.” He places her on the swing and heads back into the house to play his record player. He quickly thumbed through his carefully organized stack of vinyl records until he finds The Andrew Sisters’ record.

Steve has an ipod, but nothing seemed to compare to the sound of a record player.

The needle hits the spinning record and The Andrews Sisters’ “I’ll Be with You in Apple Blossom Time” begins to play:

I’ll be with you in apple blossom time

I’ll be with you to change your name to mine

One day in May, I’ll come and say

Happy surprise that the sun shines on today

He rejoined his daughter and they they listened together. Ava would occasionally croon along. Ava had an old soul. She enjoyed all music—even the music from Tony’s collection—but nothing compared to the love she had for the songs Steve had grown up with. So much so, that she would have anyone convinced that it stirred nostalgia within her for a time that was way before her existence.

What a wonderful wedding there will be

What a wonderful day for you and me

Church bells will chime

You will be mine in apple blossom time

“Oh God. She’s barely two and already fantasizing about her wedding day!“ Tony said, joining them on the porch with a coffee mug already in his hand.

“Don’t say that”, Steve said, grimacing at the thought. He instinctively held Ava closer.

“Andow Siters, Daddy!” Ava squealed happily.

Tony nodded, smiling down at his daughter. “So you’re the little monster who kept stealing the blankets last night. How about sleeping in your own bed tonight, huh?” Ava didn’t answer, which meant that they were up for another uncomfortable night. Tony’s mouth slightly twitched.

“You know, there was a time when I would barely be getting to bed”, Tony said, padding his way over to the swing. “Much too early…”

“That was only because I dragged you”, Steve clarified. He wasn’t opposed to man handling Tony, especially if it was to get to bed.; Tony absolutely hated it. He would complain that he wasn’t a “chick” and put up a futile struggle. But despite his protests, more than once, Tony had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms as he carried him to their bedroom in Avengers’ Towers. Those days now seemed like they were from another lifetime.

Tony wore only his usual blank tank top along with thin pajama pants. The chain to Steve’s military dog tags were around his neck, the tags tucked under the tank. Tony never took the tags off.

“We’re not in California yet, you know”, Steve pointed out. In about a week they would be leaving to California to spend the summer.

“It’s not that cold, Steve.” Even as Tony spoke, goosebumps started to sprout on his arms. He crossed his arms, trying to subtly warm himself. Steve rolled his eyes. “Come here”, Steve said, pulling him closer and engulfing the three of them into a blanket cocoon.

“Stubborn”, Steve murmured before gently pressing his lips against his husbands. He tasted of minty mouthwash.

“No!” Ava whined, feebly pushing Tony away. ‘My Papa!” She was going through a possessive stage. Just the other night she had favored Tony to Steve. But what they had soon discovered was that during the times she claimed to only want one of them, she would immediately cry if the other attempted to even leave the room.

Tony raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back an amused grin. “Hate to break it to you kid, but I saw him first.” Ava wrinkled her nose and stared at him petulantly. She was stubborn, like the both of them—although Steve would never admit it. “Alright”, Tony placated, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “I guess I’ll just leave…” He stood up and headed for the door, using the reverse psychology they had learned.

“Daddy”! Ava immediately cried, desperately reaching for Tony.

“Oh?” Tony said. “I thought you only wanted Papa?”

Ava shook her head and sniffed. “I want Papa Daddy.”

“You want Papa and Daddy.” Steve corrected.

“Papa and Daddy.” Ava glumly repeated.

Tony padded back to the porch swing and Ava snuggled into his side, still remaining on Steve’s lap. Tony nuzzles her face with his beard, prompting a squeal of laughter.

******************************************************************

After another couple rounds of trying to get her to eat something other than cereal, Ava is now seated in the living room. So immersed in the colorful characters of the show and the blocks around her, that Steve and Tony are able to momentarily slip away to their bedroom.

The house has been secured and Jarvis is monitoring her every move. They are the first to admit that they are a bit overprotective of her, but what good parent isn’t towards their child? And being the daughter of Iron Man and Captain America only put her in further danger.

That was the problem with loving someone. When you love someone with all your heart, the universe conspires to take them away from you.

Losing Ava was their greatest nightmare.

But that was why they had both agreed to retire as heroes in favor of taking care of their daughter. They wanted to give her as normal a life as possible.

This was their fresh start.

Tony has already started to make their bed. Before Steve, Tony had never made his own bed a single day in his life. It had taken a while for it to stick, but now there he was, taking the utmost precision in bed making: sheet tucked under the mattress, complete with hospital corners, folding the sheet and blanket down, smoothing out all the wrinkles and making it nice and tight; military style. Just as Steve had taught him.

“We’re going to have to figure something out.” Steve said. “We can’t get her used to sleeping in our bed all the time.”

“Hmmph.” Tony grunts, distracted by a pesky wrinkle he is attempting to smooth out. “I hope that something doesn’t involve me sleeping in her bed until she hits her teens”, he mutters.

Steve’s mouth turns up at he memory of Tony sleeping in their daughter’s bed; surrounded by lace and stuffed animals. “Don’t worry, if it comes down to it, we’ll both be crammed onto her bed.”

“Moves too much”, Tony says, still fidgeting with the bed. “We’ll be on the floor.”

Steve creeps up behind him and scoops his husband up in his arms, carrying him bridal style.

“Steve! What the—”

“In about less than thirty minutes, Ava will be coming up those steps—we don’t have much time. Shower. Now.”

Steve carried his husband into their lavish bathroom.

Sex had lost some of its spontaneity. Gone were the days where they could make love on any surface or piece of furniture. Intimate moments now had to be penciled in among their ongoing jobs as fathers; although their sex drive hadn’t diminished. So when an opportunity did arise, they seized it.

Their clothes barely had time to hit the floor.

The water trickled over their naked bodies as Tony pressed Steve against the cool shower wall; his warm breath against the back of Steve’s neck.

“I love you…” Tony whispered into his ear.

Words that used to terrify them now easily spilled from their lips. The words now came as natural as taking a breath.

“I love you, too….so much…” Steve murmured, grabbing his husbands hand. “And I wouldn’t trade our life together for anything in the world.”

In a few minutes, Ava will be impatiently pounding on the bathroom door. But until she did, this moment was just theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> For more on Ava's story: http://avastarkrogers.tumblr.com/meetava
> 
> The official Ava Stark-Rogers tumblr: http://avastarkrogers.tumblr.com/


End file.
